


These Uncertain Requiems

by artificialmay



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: M/M, pre finale fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-22
Updated: 2017-08-22
Packaged: 2018-12-18 15:54:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11877855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artificialmay/pseuds/artificialmay
Summary: Before you decide you feel some kind of way with someone else, you first have to figure out if you're even okay with how you feel.First time writing Sashea, and written before the finale spoilers even leaked, so it’s written as though the finale runs the way it has in previous seasons





	These Uncertain Requiems

Sasha hadn’t really talked to Shea since they’d filmed the finale. Truth be told, there’d been almost complete radio silence between the two of them, since that one moment when they’d said goodbye. The goodbye that had, to Sasha at least, still sounded full of promise. A goodbye that ends with a kiss, lingering for just a second too long, in a now quiet dressing room surely didn’t mean a parting of ways like this.

 But that didn’t change the fact that Sasha and Shea had barely interacted at all. And it was fair, after all the two of them were two of the hottest and most in-demand drag queens right in this moment. They were busy - Sasha was both physically and emotionally drained almost every night. In the early hours of the morning almost every night he’d drag himself through the door of his Brooklyn apartment, or foreign hotel room and collapse on the nearest flat and soft surface. He knew it was only going to get more intense after the finale aired, and regarded that moment with a kind of apprehension.

The air date was a date that Sasha had circled with trepidation. Not only in regards to the actual outcome of the show, but in regards to seeing Shea again. His mind was flitting around, too fast, like a swarm of hummingbirds, and his stomach swooped and swirled in a dizzying, nauseating rhythm. Overthinking had always been Sasha’s thing, and no matter how hard he had tried, he couldn’t help but bite at his thumbnails, sure that Shea was avoiding him, that every advance he had made on the show, and after the show had been one sided.

He had sent one text to Shea since the finale had been filmed. “ _Last night was amazing, hope to see you before next time?_ ” He’d spent a ridiculous amount of time deciding which emoji to use - the black heart seemed too indifferent, the pink whizzing ones too sincere. He’d shook his head at himself, sitting there contemplating emojis? He was a grown man, not a fifteen year old after all. He chose the yellow heart in the end - bright and cheerful, and it didn’t say “I’m so desperate to talk to you for every single second of every single day and all I want is you.”

The “next time” in his message referred to the viewing party that all of the Top 4 were going to be at - when they would see who had taken out the title of America’s Next Drag Superstar.

The last night in question was so much more special to Sasha. After what had potentially been the most gruelling night he’d ever experienced, he and Shea had found themselves alone, together in a dressing room as they cleaned up, eyelashes and used make up wipes littering every surface in an explosive cacophony of clutter. The room had been warm, and there’d been enough alcohol shared to have Sasha on edge, the buzz of tipsy that occurs before the blackout. 

“We would be so happy,” Shea had said, in a lapse in the dying conversation.  
“We’d what?” responded Sasha, a little confused by the spontaneity of the statement.  
“If we did end up together,” Shea responded matter-of-factly, running a hand through his hair, trying to get some volume back after having it pressed down under a wig for hours. Shea’s admission sounded completely natural, and it made Sasha forget every word in the English language as she struggled to piece together a response that didn’t make him sound cheesy or fake. He opted for silence as Shea laughed, a low quiet noise that somehow managed to reverberate around the dressing room as though it had been fed through a microphone.

“Did that scare you? I’m sorry,” Shea’s words were languid, and a small part of Sasha wondered if it was only because of the drinks they’d had earlier in the night that Shea was saying all this.  
_Get a grip_ , he thought to himself as he replied to Shea, adrenaline leaving his voice slightly higher and raspier than usual.  
“No, no, God no,” he responded, somewhat weakly in his own opinion. “I think we’d be happy too.”

That was when Shea had put down the bottle of whatever it had been he had been holding and grabbed Sasha so tightly by the arm the bald queen had been slightly worried what was about to happen. That worry faded when he noticed Shea’s dark eyes watching him with a peculiar expression; almost a look of questioning and apprehension. Sasha’s breath had hitched in his throat and a nervous chuckle had escaped his throat, and Shea’s mouth had quirked ever so slightly, and Sasha could have described a thousand little other things in that single moment, he was so hyper-aware of each particle surrounding him.  
“Shea-”  
Sasha never got to finish his question, as he was cut off by Shea yanking Sasha closer towards him, and pressing his mouth to Sasha’s in an intense kiss. Although Sasha would never admit it, he’d imagined kissing Shea’s plump lips more than once, but his imaginations paled in comparison to the real thing, warm and soft, yet exciting, with an edge that was like no other kiss he’d ever had before. A small noise escaped his lips as he pulled Shea closer to him, intending to deepen the kiss when Shea pulled away, a smile painted on his face that was somewhat dreamy, that Sasha supposed was written all over his own face.

Shea turned to pick up his things, and once everything was gathered, he left the dressing room, pausing only to press a kiss to Sasha’s temple and whisper: “think about how happy we’d be.” And just like that, Sasha was left alone in the dressing room, shivering despite the heating coursing through the room.

All that had happened weeks ago, and Sasha had replayed it, over and over in his head, trying to quell his subconscious which told him in a horrific snarl that Shea was only drunk and didn’t mean anything. Almost an entire month of wondering whether he should confront Shea, whether he shouldn’t danced through his head, into a more and more confusing rhythm, until Sasha couldn’t tell pro from con and started dreading the moment he would have to next see Shea. Which coincidentally would be in only a few minutes whenever the taller queen decided to arrive, and enter the dressing room. Sasha felt like he might be sick, and rested his head in hands.

 _You’re a professional goddamnit_ , he thought, shaking his head as though his own hesitation were water blocking his ears.  _You can work with one other person for one night without it being awkward._

 He was just looking at himself in the mirror, trying to ignore the metaphorical knife stabbing into his gut as he desperately try to slow down his breathing, nerves fluttering through his stomach with no regard to how Sasha wanted to feel. His breathing was shallow and fast, he could feel it, but it all but stopped when Shea entered the room.

Shea was breathtaking, just like Sasha had known he would be. His makeup unfinished, but still polished and beautiful, raw strokes of colour and shadow carving his face, unblended, strong and fierce. Sasha swallowed, feeling even more uneasy than he had before, when he was alone with his thoughts for company.

Deja vu. Once again, they’re alone in a dressing room, except this time there’s not alcohol, not adrenaline, for Sasha there’s millions of emotions, running around his head. Everything he’s felt over the past weeks bubbles back up to the surface; rage at being ignored, the disappointment of picking up his phone to thousands of notifications but not one from the person he wanted most. Confusion from trying to work out if Shea wants him, and if he even wants Shea. Does he? Is a season’s worth of pining and looks from across the room enough to warrant attraction?

 “Hey,” said Shea, his voice taking Sasha back to every little moment the two had shared, and in this moment Sasha is fairly certain he knows the answer to the question he’s been asking himself throughout these past few, uncertain, confusing weeks.

 Sasha’s a smart guy, and an even more intelligent queen, and he has so many emotions he wants to voice. So many concepts, even, running through his head, forming long and eloquent sentences that would speak to Shea and tell the other queen how, yes, I would be happy. He would be more than happy, he’d be ecstatic, he’d be thrilled, he’d be all this and more. Everything runs around his head, which he distills down to the following question.

“Why didn’t you answer my text?”

As soon as the words left Sasha’s mouth he cringed internally. Instead of sounding like a friend, a lover, even a close acquaintance, he sounds like a desperate, clingy ex. He could almost feel the blood spread into a blush over his bald head as Shea chuckled nervously.

 Shea smiled, a little sadly. “Sasha, you can’t tell me you don’t understand how busy I’ve been?” he said, and Sasha just felt even more embarrassed.  
“Sorry,” he squeaked out, in his head muttering a prayer that the ground would open up and swallow him whole, or better yet, the whole conversation could be rewound. However, Shea ran a hand through his wig, and sighed.  
“That’s not really a good enough excuse is it though?” he remarked, a peculiar tone to his voice, that made Sasha jittery inside. “Truthfully, I had no clue what to say, I was so scared you didn’t care, or thought I was coming on too strong-”  
Sasha cut Shea off, forcing the taller queen to look into his eyes by grabbing his hand.  
“You’re so stupid Shea Coulee.”  
“I know, I’m sorry, I just knew I’d made a mistake telling you that because I’m so scared of what I feel, and I thought you wouldn’t feel the same. And I’m right, I know I am.” Sasha was unaware he was holding his breath until Shea looks at him, really looks at him with a smouldering gaze.  
“Tell me I’m right.”  
Sasha can’t believe he’s here, can’t believe what he’s about to say. He feels as though he’s about to melt, the only thing staying strong about him is his grip on Shea’s hand and his voice when he finally speaks.

“You could not be more wrong.”

 This time, Sasha was the one who leant in. This time was so much different to the last - they both were cautious of the other’s makeup, there was no carelessness this time. The kiss meant something, it wasn’t drunk or tentative. Shea’s lips were intense on hers, but also with a gentleness that made Sasha shiver all over. Sasha bit down on Shea’s lip, gently, and feeling a rush of pleasure at the sound of the low moan that was elicited from Shea. Shea’s hands were roving on his back, moving in circles, pulling him closer, the two of them tangled and lost in the moment.

After what felt like only a few seconds but also like hours had passed, the two queens pulled apart, both of their faces stretched into wide smiles.  
“I told you we’d be so happy,” said Shea.  
“I never doubted you, bitch!”  
Shea laughed, a free happy sound, that Sasha thought he could listen to for hours and hours. Still smiling, Sasha grabbed Shea’s hand and pulled on it gently, indicating the door with his head.  
“Now come on, we’ve got a finale to watch.”


End file.
